


problems and normalcy

by ROSEWAR



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 16:18:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2276337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ROSEWAR/pseuds/ROSEWAR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julius knows they have a problem, but he doesn't know how to fix it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	problems and normalcy

They're soulmates.

Julius was certain of this the moment he first laid eyes on the beautiful Ludger, and even with time's steady passage, none of those feelings changed.

He loves Ludger with all his heart and soul. He would do anything to protect _Ludger's_ heart and soul. He will do anything to protect Ludger.

  
He doesn't think there's anything wrong with the intensity of what poets often described as ephemeral. All they had were each other. Julius feared that if he cared for Ludger even an ounce less than he does, if he dared to even entertain the possibility of this grand love wavering even once, that would be it. It would be like reciting a magic spell to break the curse that had befallen the two of them, and life would go back to normal.

Julius couldn't imagine what 'normal' would entail, so he isn't sure what he's so afraid of. Whatever it is, he begrudgingly admits that he doesn't want it.

  
When Ludger is fourteen, Julius hears his brother stuttering his name softly from his room. He doesn't know what to think other than thank goodness, thank the lord, he isn't alone. _He isn't alone._

  
Julius doesn't entertain their mutual intensity as a problem until the very next morning when he has to look at Ludger and realizes that he's burdened with pretending nothing is different between them. He greets Ludger with an innocent good morning and tries to drown out the memory of soft, innocent rustling in the darkness with the lively warmth of domesticity.

Ludger smiles back and returns the greeting. His face is calm and adoring.

  
He knows it's a problem but Julius doesn't know how to fix it. It's too confusing and that inherent fear of normalcy is still there. The unknown scares him more than the predictable, which is normal in itself he wagers.

Even contemplating this is abnormal, so in a way, Julius is comforted by the fact that he's so conflicted by _their_ version of normalcy. That means there's still hope for him yet. He isn't alone, though those poetic, ephemeral desires haven't faded away yet.

  
He knows that Ludger is right next to the door.

Julius cursed himself at first for getting caught in such a compromising position, his hands wandering down the hard planes of his front before finally working himself into hardness with a few good strokes to the underside of his cock. He isn't sure when Ludger had arrived, but the soft thud against the wall outside and the curious way the door, which was already cracked to begin with, found itself creeping further open heralded his arrival.

He doesn't have it in him to call out to his brother. That would be no different from breaking their spell and admitting that there was something very wrong with them. Julius curses himself for the pulse of excitement his cock gives at the thought of being watched by his brother while he masturbates. He's even more disgusted with himself for not minding it more than he should, and continuing with flourish.

Julius tries to picture it as he gives himself another hard stroke, the warm water hitting him feeling tepid compared to the hotness of his skin.

Ludger slumped next to the doorframe, pants down to his thighs, his pretty face melting into a pleased and anguished, blissed-out mess. His hand between his legs, fisting his cock and stroking with hard, fast, sloppy movements. Ludger's eyes closed tight, his mouth hanging open, wanting to shout Julius, Julius, yes Julius, but not wanting his brother to actually _hear_ him. There's urgency, fear, shame, youthful intensity coloring his skin.

Julius groans at the image as he squeezes the head of his dick when his hand comes up. Ludger, he groans out, loud enough to rise over the fog and steam and roar of the shower. He wonders if his shower curtain-silhouette is too clear or leaves enough to the imagination. He wonders if Ludger is peering at it every now and then, watching Julius fist his cock, head tossed back, throat bared in submission to the wet heat cascading down, Ludger's name on his tongue like a magic spell.

The image that gets him so hot and hard that it makes his whole body lock up is one of Ludger spreading his legs, pajama pants around his ankles, with an experimental finger inside of himself while his other hand strokes his dick with urgency. Ludger would imagine it's Julius finger-fucking him and touching him and coaxing him to cum, cum for his big brother.

Julius doesn't have time to be horrified or confused or upset because the thought of splitting pretty Ludger apart with his dick is too much, and Julius cums with a soft, strangled noise. He purposely makes sure he rasps out Ludger's name in the throes of his trembling, just to make sure Ludger knows who he was thinking of this whole time.

  
Julius finds it a little odd that the two of them share an unspoken okayness with listening to each other masturbate, but fucking his brother is where he draws the line and finds himself reeling.

Julius knows it's not much of a step-up, would be the next course of action in any other relationship, but this is different, this is  _Ludger_.

Fucking Ludger would mean submitting to the realization that their relationship wasn't normal, that there is a problem with them, that there is a problem with their idea of normalcy. There was no way around it, even if they made no mention of it, it would still be there in the backs of their minds like dark bats clinging to the ceiling of a darker room.

 _That_ was what Julius feared. The unknown he had been ignoring in favor of listening to his brother moan and stutter his name, the unknown he knows Ludger tries to drown out as well. Once again, their intense longing is mutual, though this time, Julius wishes that poets would describe this worry as ephemeral instead. If only it would disappear so they could resume their own normalcy, perhaps even take the plunge and create a brand new kind of domesticity that not even poetry could intrude on.

  
Julius tries to stop listening to Ludger after that, because he knows it's wrong anyway, and he doesn't trust himself not to stop halfway through and shove Ludger against whatever wall he was creeping behind, and haul him up to properly rub them both out together.

Ludger either doesn't catch on or doesn't care, because _he_ still listens, his gaze still lingers on Julius' broad shoulders and large hands when they're really and truly alone. Julius tries to keep his hands away from himself, but knowing that Ludger is probably in the next room, a few steps away, maybe even hiding somewhere within his immediate reach, listening and waiting and just as bothered and conflicted as he is, makes it impossible not to get flustered.

Julius, Julius, Julius-- he's so used to hearing it that eventually, he breaks down and returns every sob of breath with his own heady groans whenever he can. He does it in the shower, in his room, leaning against furniture in the oddest of rooms, even makes a point of hastily ending their conversations in order to steal away somewhere, knowing fully well that Ludger will tail after him silently because of that precocious curiosity of his.

He isn't sure why, but the idea of Ludger knowing that he has him eating out of the palm of his hand always hits Julius like a switch. It toes the line between normal and dispelling. Julius should be scared because _he's pushing it, he knows it,_ but he isn't and that fact scares him even more.

  
Julius is flat on his back, knees drawn up, both hands between his legs. He knows Ludger is lurking nearby, can almost hear his brother's breaths if he strains his ears and listens carefully.

Ludger's name trails off his tongue in this guttural way that he knows Ludger likes, but Julius doesn't have time to revel in his afterglow or imagine Ludger tasting his fingers or letting Julius' cum splash onto his face.

Ludger's standing at his doorway, clothes askew, knees pressed together and face distinctly red.

Julius' first instinct is to freeze as if in the hopes of disappearing if he remained still enough in time. After a few beats pass, their wide eyes fixed on each others', it becomes clear that neither of them are going to disappear.

Things weren't supposed to get to this point. It's different when they're separated and can't see each other, only hear. As long as they don't touch each other, Julius reluctantly admits that it's fine, it's normal, they can go on as if there's nothing problematic going on behind literal closed doors. They can pretend they aren't aware of what's _reallly_ going on between them.

Ludger, Julius says in a low voice, hands slipping out from between his legs and finding themselves lost and directionless halfway through.

Ludger swallows hard and replies with a feeble little Julius., before taking a step forward with trembling hands.

Julius, I need you.

Julius sits up and shakes his head, unsure of how else to respond to the proclamation. He wants to give in so badly that it hurts, that it makes his cock attempt to stir to life once again because of the promise of Ludger, Ludger, Ludger--

But this will change things if it hasn't already.

We can't do this, Julius says, barely above a whisper, unsureness clinging to every single tone of his voice.

It doesn't stop his dear precocious brother, who steps forward again and again, stopping at the side of Julius' bed.

He swallows hard. I know you listen to me, Ludger says with a firm voice. Almost as if it were an afterthought, he adds on, And I listen to you too.

Julius doesn't know what to say.

It's different, is all he can think of. That's different, Ludger.

No it's not, Ludger replies with determination. He was completely serious when he said he needed him, though Julius never doubted him.

The spell is broken in the instant that Ludger's knee hits Julius' matress. He crawls forward, hand hovering just above Julius' cum-slick dick.

Please, Julius, please. His begging is unbearable, and Julius wants to give in so badly. He can't though. The spell has beenn broken, they have breached the realm of abnormality and officially have a problem now.

Julius doesn't trust himself, so he attempts one last time to grasp at their old and true normalcy.

I don't want this, Ludger. It's a blatant lie, but Julius tries to convince himself of its trueness by moving away from Ludger.

Ludger obviously doesn't know what to do either, is probably trapped and picking up the pieces of their shattered illusion too. They remain still once again.

Please, is all Ludger says one final time, desperation written all over his face.

Julius says nothing, shakes his head.

  
They have a problem.

  
Things are almost normal again until Julius catches Ludger eyeing him with need two mornings later.

They have a problem. They need to do something about it or they'll never return to their normal world ever again.

Julius compromises.

They lay back to back in his bed, pressed flush together, and listen to each other sort of like they used to.

Ludger writhes against him, his bare back making Julius' shirt crinkle and scratch his sweat-slick skin.

Listening to Ludger touch himself up close like this is vastly different from doing it behind a wall or a door or from the shower. Every little nuance of his breath is painfully audible, and every shift of his compact body is overwhelmingly apparent.

Ludger presses hard against Julius' back, as if his skin were supersensitive and the touch of that centimeter of fabric separating them was enough to sate him.

Julius' strokes are long and firm, no longer urgent and quick because of the inherent and exhilirating fear of being caught in the act in spite of the unspoken lack of hurry between them.

Ludger must be touching himself the same way because Julius can feel him undulating his hips and bucking into his hand, probably fucking his fist. With every slap of skin on skin comes a harsh breath and the occasional cry of Julius, more Julius.

Julius' movement are frantic; he's unusually gentle with himself as he imagines Ludger's hand instead of his own, imagines Ludger stroking him experimentally and fondling his balls in that way Julius likes so much. The thought of Ludger wanting to taste him, knowing he could easily have it if he just turned around, is the thought that sends him over the edge.

He cums first; Julius wonders if it's because he's wanted this more than anything despite his protests before. Ludger comes a few strokes afterwards with a soft whimper, his brother's name on his lips.

Amidst the warmth of their afterglow, Ludger reaches behind himself to blindly grope about until he catches Julius' free hand. He twines their fingers before Julius has time to deny him.

Julius decides not to complain this time, tries to accept the gesture as a brand new magic spell. Maybe it'll help them build a brand new kind of normalcy between them, Julius thinks as he shifts to better look over his shoulder at Ludger.

They weren't supposed to look at each other or touch each other, but the unspoken rule was broken and now they were deep in the mire of a brand new problem. Maybe that was their fate, Julius honestly had no idea since poets provided no guidance in matters this strange.

Ludger turns around to lay on his back, never once letting go of Julius' hand, and leans in to kiss him, soft and chaste.

Julius doesn't kiss him back.


End file.
